


Undertow

by BlueRoboKitty



Series: It's the Galra Heat [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal, Anal Fingering, Drowning Mention, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Galra!Keith, M/M, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, No Lube, Oral, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, ass eating, but they do with what they can, mild asphyxiation, rip lance, this fic is just pure filth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-22 20:52:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7453576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueRoboKitty/pseuds/BlueRoboKitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keith has been struggling with a secret for a long time, but luckily or unluckily, Lance is there to help him out. Because Lance is a good guy like that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Undertow

**Author's Note:**

> First Klance sinfic and this took way too long. Take it away. All characters are 18+.

Lance is just that kind of guy. When push comes to shove, he is always there for his friends. This is what happens when you grow up with a huge family, three sisters and a brother, a bajillion cousins, even little nieces and nephews all barely toddlers, screeching with delight whenever Uncle Lance comes home for a visit from space school. California’s a huge state, his hometown hours away from the Garrison in Arizona. Cuba is even farther if he’s able to make the family trip that year, where even more cousins and such from his father’s side wait eagerly for his return for a summer of beach, sun, and bikini-clad babes swooning over how adorable he is with children. He usually makes it. It’s not difficult to request leave during the summer break.

Not this year, however. Or the year before that. He’s since been running around in a giant robot lion in an entirely different galaxy lightyears upon lightyears away from Earth. Time is so strange out here; months are starting to stretch into years but he doesn’t feel any older and he looks the same as he did when he became the Blue Paladin. There’s no sun to track the days as they go by, no seasons to track the year. How many birthdays has he had out here now? Is he finally legally able to drink because goddamn, he should be considering everything he’s gone through. Is he going to go back home and all his precious niblings are all grown-up with children of their own while he doesn’t look a day over nineteen like in that one popular space movie? Pidge has created a software program that would track time on Earth, but it’s not long before Lance feels sickened every time he glances at the date.

He doesn’t want to know. He really fucking doesn’t want to know.

The last time he’s known what month it’s been, it was Keith’s eighteenth birthday. That fucking Keith. But it’s too bad that he’s the kind of loner who doesn’t look forward to his own birthday. As far as Lance is concerned, _everyone_ should have their birthdays surrounded by family and friends, it’s just too sad otherwise, and it’s apparently the kind of birthday Keith hasn’t had in the past ten years.

Lance hates the guy, but he’s not a _monster._

So he goes all out for his team, his _new family_. No matter what they’re going through, he tries to be there, all jokes and everything aside. Even Keith. Who, if he’s being honest, he doesn’t actually hate all that much, anymore, if ever.

That fucking Keith.

Maybe it’s the overexposure to space dust or something, but Mother of God, Keith has been invading his mind more and more lately. Thinking about that surly attitude and almond-shaped eyes the color of deep indigo and pale skin and soft lips curled into a defiant smirk and that stupid mullet of thick black hair he can dig his fingers through and yank on and that tight ass molding perfectly in his hands, and it’s usually at that point Lance realizes his dick is out of his pants and he’s pumping furiously until he spurts hotly all over his palm with Keith’s stupid name on his tongue.

It’s definitely some kind of weird space dust allergy.

Lance hates space so fucking much now. Which sucks because he’s loved it once enough that he gave up a possible music career for it, spending more time with telescopes and space camp instead of perfecting his art.

He’ll do anything for Keith, though, if the situation calls for it, so long as the Red Paladin never finds out Lance chokes the chicken to him on occasion. Lance consoles himself with the notion that he’s just as incensed at the idea as Keith’d probably be, especially now that he can no longer use the Keith-kinda-looks-like-a-girl excuse. Keith with boobs just isn’t that appealing anymore. Is that twat getting more muscular? That little black t-shirt has been looking tighter and tighter as of late. Lance doesn’t even bother hiding his attraction from himself anymore, and lets his eyes roam whenever Keith’s not looking. Definitely getting more muscular. Fuck.

Lance is running out of lotion at this point, and he’ll launch himself into the nearest supernova before defiling his precious face-cream. This is going to be an awkward supply run.

The thing about Keith aside from being stupidly more attractive lately is that there are moments when he gets edgier than normal. Like _really_ edgy. It kinda cycles, actually. Who needs Pidge’s Earth timer when Lance can just set his watch to those moments when Keith is extra pissy? It comes like a storm, a week or so of lukewarm calm, and then suddenly Keith is spending literally every waking moment on the training deck whenever he’s not stuffing his face with Hunk’s specially made alien dishes and plain food goo. He eats so much during this time, helping himself to thirds and fourths before Lance is halfway through is first plate. Just how many calories is this asshole burning without trying? And he’s always been a bit of a loner, but during this time, he goes out of his way to avoid everyone, except at dinner when he stuffs his face like it’s his last meal.

And he sweats, too, a lot. But it doesn’t smell bad, that’s the weird thing? In fact, whenever Keith steps into the room, perspiration dripping down his flushed face, Lance’s mind races to all kinds of naughty, naughty places. He wants Keith making that very face while squirming beneath him or, even better, bouncing in his lap.

“The fuck are you looking at, Moreno?”

That’s how it goes whenever Keith catches Lance staring these days. Cheezits, that tone isn’t necessary. Also, last names? Really? Lance can do well without any of that lip, but it doesn’t calm his fantasies down any. Keith’s extreme aggression during this time of month (?), while startling, is strangely sexy. It stirs something in Lance, makes him want to challenge him. Or roll over and let Keith have his way. Either is fine.

Well, it’s fine, but it’s still really weird. Keith’s acting like an animal. Like, more than what could be considered normal for a regular person.

Lance doesn’t mean for any of that day to happen. He tries to convince himself that he’s being there for his teammate during a rough time. But he knows, he can’t hide it, the inherent selfishness, the rough time that’s rough in all the _best_ possible ways and how much he’s been _begging_ for it since this stupid attraction began, probably back when they teamed up to liberate the people of the Balmera. Or maybe back further than that.

It’s concerning when Keith doesn’t show up for dinner that night. It’s alarming when Lance doesn’t find him out on the training deck after volunteering to go grab him. Lance doesn’t even realize he’s running until he finds himself standing by Keith’s door, gasping for air and his heart trying to punch itself out of his ribcage. Noises from beyond that closed door drift to his ears. Slick, smacking noises. Wet and fleshy and rhythmic. Lance immediately hardens at the deliciously sinful sound, but he also feels incredibly irritated. He’s getting all worried and shit while this fucker is sitting in his room having a goddamn flute solo. Bullshit.

The strangled scream that erupts from within the room makes Lance’s stomach plummet to his feet. It’s a throaty, high-pitched cry that doesn’t sound like a climax so much as sheer _agony._ Lance shoves through the door, stumbling into the room because he doesn’t consider for a second whether the door might be locked or not. “Keith!?”

It smells fucking terrible in here, musky and thick, just like the adult theater he used to sneak into a few times back home, and granted, that place has always made him desperate for a hot shower afterward but where else is he going to watch porn with eight people living in his house? The visceral air is doing some funny shit to his head. And his pants.

Keith sits on the floor in the middle of a puddle of his own cum, the sticky fluid webbed all over his thighs and his hand that’s grasping his cock. His still very-hard, pulsing, red cock. Lance can’t look away from the cum dripping from the trembling head and down the veiny length.

“Keith?”

He doesn’t look okay. Keith is shaking from head to toe and when he stares up at Lance, his gaze is not mortified in this rather mortifying situation but glassy and _desperate._ “Lance!” he gasps out. “Lance, help! It hurts! _It hurts!”_

Lance is so shocked he has no idea what to say, so of course he says the first stupid thing that pops in his head: “Didya use lotion?”

The frustrated glare Keith gives him in the midst of his pain is almost comical. “Would you just shut up and _get over here!”_

“I have no idea what you expect _me_ to do about, uh, _this!”_ Lance’s voice comes out in a surprised squeak, but he’s already crossed the room to kneel at Keith’s side. His clothes look like the Red Paladin has torn them off with his bare hands just to get to his dick, the crotch area of his pants lies in dark stringy shreds. And speaking of hands, his palms are red and covered in welts and one of them is even bleeding a little. “Keith… what the fuck…? Are you…?”

He trails off. Of course Keith’s not okay. None of this looks okay. This is nightmare mode masturbation, that’s what this shit is. The epitome of way too much of a good thing.

“It… it’s worse this time,” Keith wheezes, leaning his head against the wall and groaning. Lance’s eyes linger on the tantalizing line of his slender throat, fucking Christ, he can’t stop finding this guy attractive even during an emergency.

Lance forces himself back into focus. “This time?”

“I get these… I have no fucking clue what they are, bro.”

It feels a little weird being called “bro” by someone sitting there with his dripping dick in his hand because some biological malfunction is forcing him to continuously crank his shank. Like this is the ultimate bro test, what bros are made of, and it’s time to bro up.

“It’s like some kind of heat cycle,” Keith continues breathlessly.

“Um, but you’re not a dog.”

“I fucking realize that! But I get them, anyway, and I have been since I hit puberty. And it’s getting _worse!”_ Then Keith shoves his face into Lance’s personal space, his eyes bulging and wild. “It used to be I could just jerk off for a few days, and it’ll go away and I’ll be back to normal. I’ve been fucking my fist for an hour straight! It’s not going away! It’s not getting any better! _I can’t stop it! I need to fuck something now!”_

Goddamn, this would be the hottest fucking thing Lance has ever heard anyone say if this situation wasn’t so straight up _bizarre._ Lance got a bit of a chub the moment he walked in, but now he’s flying at full mast. Which, to be honest, kinda makes this situation even weirder.

“Lance, I never thought I’d say this _ever,_ and as much as it sickens me to… I need to fuck you.”

Lance glares back, mouth drawing in a straight line. “H-hey, _rude!_ Fuck you! And not like that. You’re not getting anywhere near my ass. Not if you’re gonna be a shitbag about it.”

“Lance, come on – !”

“I am not your whore! You can’t just shove your dick in me and have your way like I’m some kinda sex object just to discard me in the trash! Ass! You can… you can at least be nice about it.”

Keith looks somewhat startled at Lance’s voice going soft all of a sudden. “Um, I’ll, um, get you dinner later. Or something. I-I’ll owe you one, I swear! Lance, please. I-I-I can barely hang on anymore! Are you gonna let me fuck you or what?”

“Um. No.”

“Goddammit, Lance, why are you even – !”

“How’s about I fuck _you_ instead.”

_“What fucking difference does it make!?”_

“Because I don’t play with my own ass that often,” Lance retorts. “You can’t just stick your dick in me without it being incredibly _painful,_ so no thank you.” He leans closer to Keith, letting his lips trail along that neck he’s been admiring for the past five minutes now. “And I don’t think you’re patient enough to finger me open.” Keith’s pulse is fluttering like crazy beneath his lips, his skin drenched in sweat.

“D-don’t fucking _tease_ me right now, man,” Keith gasps out. “I don’t think I can control it for much longer!”

“Shhhh.” Lance blows softly against his ear, and Keith makes the sexiest _sound_ he’s ever heard from anyone before. “Calm down, buddy. I’ll get ya there, don’t worry.”

“H-how do you even know about – I – I thought you were – “

“My sister used to be huge into slash and made me read all her fanfiction. I’ve learned more about the intricate details of gay sex in her writing than watching porn.”

“That still doesn’t make me all that confident in you, I hope you know.”

“Oh shut up, and enjoy it, Song!” _Ha!_ How does this twat feel about last names being thrown back in his face?

He kisses the other’s neck before Keith could snap back at him, tasting the salt of his skin as his lips dance over his pulse. With only the slightest hesitation, he reaches down between Keith’s legs, gently pushing the wounded hands out of the way to tenderly touch his member. _“Aaah- haaaah!”_ Keith arches into him with a cry, and Lance can feel the bruises forming on his shoulders where Keith has him in a death grip.

“Are you okay?” Now that Lance thinks about it, of course his dick would hurt considering Keith claims to have beaten on it for the past hour or so.

“It’s just… it’s so sensitive…” Keith shakes against Lance, breathing hard. “When you touched it, it felt like you had set me on fire. It didn’t hurt, it just… kinda felt like being electrocuted.”

Lance lifts an eyebrow at that, wondering what happened in Keith’s life to make him think there’s a difference between the two but… sure? “Let’s try something else. Can you make it to the bed? This floor is fuckin’ _gross,_ dude. I refuse to roll around in it with you.”

Keith nods, and Lance helps to his feet to sit him down at the edge of the bed. “Th-thank you for this, by the way,” the Red Paladin mutters and he sounds a little shy. “I’m actually starting to feel a bit better.”

Lance smirks at him. “Good. Then maybe _this_ will bring you back to normal, and you can stop bein’ such a cunt to everybody.”

He drops down to his knees between Keith’s legs because if he thinks about it too long, if he hesitates too long, he’ll talk himself out of it. Also because he can’t stand looking at Keith’s cock anymore. How is he so big? That can’t be right. And it’s kind of… purple? That can’t be a good color, either. He has thought about, even fantasized sucking dick before, but he’s never considered that situation ever becoming a reality. And yet, here he is now, Keith’s slick cock quivering in his mouth, almost too big to fit. _The fuck’s wrong with your junk, dude?_ He keeps that thought to himself, however. Not like he can speak with a mouthful of dick, anyway.

“Heh,” Keith says breathlessly, like he’s winded. “Never thought this would be an effective way to shut your obnoxious mouth up.”

 _“Don’t be a shit to the guy with your dick in his mouth,”_ Lance mentally grumbles, his eyes saying just as much as he glares at that stupid mullet. Twat.

It’s funny how a memory of one of his sister’s more explicit slash fiction flashes through his mind at this point, its narrative laced with tips on how to give a proper beej. Lips forward, like sucking on a popsicle. You wouldn’t put your teeth on a cold ass popsicle, would you? That’s what the fic says. Lance takes it slow, bobbing his head back and forth, taking in what he can as deep as he can before pulling back to suck the head and then forward again.

“Oh, Lance,” Keith breathes, and it’s the hottest thing the Blue Paladin’s ever heard (he’s hearing a lot of hot things, actually, in this weird ass bonding moment of theirs), and his fingers drag through his hair. Lance hums a little then back he goes this time to swirl his tongue around the tip, tasting both the drying cum and drops of fresh precum pearling from the slit.

“You okay?” Lance asks, admittedly so he can give his mouth a bit of a break for Keith’s nearly inhuman girth is putting some strain on his jaw.

Keith nods, eyes dark and face flushed with need, looking far more relaxed a few minutes ago. He’s still breathing heavily, but it’s not like he’s on the verge of hyperventilating anymore. Lance wonders why Keith has always tackled these “heat cycles” of his alone since it seems like the attentions of someone else’s touch are what make it better. He shrugs the thought away. It’s none of his business really, even though he is on his knees sucking Keith’s freakish monster cock out of the goodness of his heart.

“It feels really good,” Keith says, and his tongue flicks lightly over his bottom lip. “Please don’t stop.”

“Oh, I don’t plan to.” Is that his voice, really? Lance can’t recall a time he had ever sounded so hoarse, speaking from deep within his chest without actually meaning to. And contrary to popular belief, he has been around the neighborhood a few times and knows his shit and knows what he sounds like, and it’s never been like _this._ Keith shivers, as if his voice has a profound effect on him. Lance reaches up and pops two of his fingers in Keith’s mouth. Keith jumps as if surprised, then starts to suck eagerly.

Holy shit, his teeth are _sharp._ Like _fucking sharp._ Of course, Keith suckling on Lance’s fingers is sexy as fuck, but Lance can’t shake away the very concerned feeling of sticking his precious digits between a pair of sawblades. How the quiznak even? He’s even been entertaining the idea of Keith switching places with him and giving his own erection some relief, but nope. Nope.

He pulls his fingers away before he can freak himself out too much, and Keith looks absolutely distressed and confused as if he’s caught the shocked look on Lance’s face.

“No, no, no,” Lance assures him with a wink, quick to recover as always. “Trust me. You’re gonna _love_ this. Lay back.”

His jaw feels better now, so Lance takes Keith’s cock back into his mouth, sucking at bit harder. Keith’s head lolls back, black hair draping past his shoulders, only to snap up again when Lance slips a finger right into his pucker. Lance is careful, of course, inserting slowly, letting Keith open up to him as he massages around the tight rim, but it’s obviously surprising to the other all the same. Lance pops Keith’s dick out of his mouth to ask, “Holdin’ up alright?”

“Y-yeah but… I’m not… I haven’t showered yet today, okay!”

Lance glances at Keith’s throbbing purple dick covered in dry cum and then at the slippery floor next to the bed. “Trust me, I’m not worried about you being dirty. I’m sure you’re fine. I’ve put my fingers in way dirtier things.”

Keith pulls out of his shyness long enough to mutter dryly, “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

Annoyed now, Lance pushes his finger knuckle-deep into Keith’s asshole, causing the other to fall back on the bed if his elbows didn’t catch him. He squirms restlessly as Lance fingers around, looking for that special spot men were said to have right up in the bum because God has a sick sense of humor.

_“Holy shit!”_

Found it.

Lance doesn’t finger himself often. He always finds it to be a bit of a pain, but whenever he does have the patience for it, goddamn, it’s so much better than fucking his hand. He gives Keith a few teasing rubs across his prostate and then his mouth takes in his cock again.

This twat better appreciate this when all is said and done. Oh, not that he’s actually complaining about turning Keith into a writhing mess of putty right in his hands for Lance to manipulate as he pleases. How many times has he fantasized about this very moment, showing up that fucking Keith by giving him the most amazing pleasure he has ever felt? His ego swells fatter than his own dick right now, and he uses his free hand to pin Keith’s thrusting hips down.

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck,”_ Keith pants over and over. “Lance, I’m so close - ! I… I think I’m coming. H- _holy shit - !!!”_

Lance takes this as a sign to slip in a second finger, flicking and stroking in rhythm of his sucking until Keith is fucking _incoherent._ Mmm… this is absolutely the best way to shut this guy up. Then the sharp sound of tearing fabric reaches his ears, and he realizes that Keith is literally ripping his sheets apart, and, okay, Lance knows he’s good but _Jesus._ And then Keith releases the most _bestial snarl_ that shakes Lance straight to the goddamn core.

Cum sprays into Lance’s mouth, briny and bitter, and it’s way too much for him to hold. He swallows what he can, but there is so much, and it runs down his chin and webs in his hair. The kind of shit you’d see straight out of a cartoon porn or something. It’s obscene and disgusting and so goddamn hot, but at the same time, Lance can’t believe that a guy can shoot out so much cum at once. _He_ certainly hasn’t. This can’t be _normal._

Lance thinks that once Keith is able to walk, he should probably see a doctor about all this. He opens his mouth to suggest that very thing when he’s suddenly grabbed by a surprising strength and then the world goes blurry as he’s thrown on the bed. When his eyes refocus, he is frozen stunned by what he sees. His mouth drops open, but no sound comes out.

Keith keeps him pinned on the bed, breathing heavily. “It didn’t work, Lance,” he gasps out from between very sharp teeth. “I-I-I mean, it felt great and it helped a little but… I still feel so hot.”

“Uh…”

“Lance, I think I have to be the one doing the fucking here, I think that’s how it’s supposed to work.”

“Uuuuuuh…”

Keith looks at a complete loss. “What? Why do you have that freaky look on your face?”

“E-ears…”

“Huh?”

“Your fuckin’ _EARS,_ bro! And your eyes and your teeth and your _ears!”_

Purple-gray hands with claws fly to the sides of Keith’s face where there are light tufts of fur in that same color. His eyes shine in vivid gold, and Lance can barely see the slit pupils within them, wide, almost frightened, and his lower lip trembles beneath sharp canines. His hands reach his feline-like ears where his old human ears used to be that stretch above his head.

“Shit, shit, _shit!_ It happened! SHIT! _It happened!”_

“Every full moon you turn into a were-chinchilla?”

Keith snarls at him but it makes those ridiculous ears of his flick, and despite the shock, despite the seriousness of the situation –

“Hee.”

Lance clamps his hand over his mouth, but too late, Keith hears it as clearly as he has. “You… you just laughed?”

“I-I’m so sorry!” And Lance means it, too. “It’s just… it’s… _cute.”_

Keith’s expression twists in a mix of relieved and infuriated, and because this is Lance he’s dealing with and Keith is Keith with or without chinchilla-cat ears, he goes for the latter. “H-how can you be so calm about this!? I look like a _Galra,_ you fucking walnut!”

“Uh, I was gonna say you look more like a chinchilla-cat but hey, if you wanna address that particular elephant in the room, I’m not gonna stop you.”

Keith looks away, ears drooping. “Just fucking say it already, Lance. I’m a goddamn monster. I’m no different than those we’ve been trying to save the universe from.”

“You definitely have an inhuman-sized dick, and you came enough just now for like eight guys at a bukkake party, but you’re not a _monster._ Actually, I’m kinda glad that there’s an explanation now, because goddamn, bro, I was gettin’ really concerned about your medical condition there for second.”

“Not a monster, huh?”

Keith’s clawed hand grabs Lance by the throat, pushing the Blue Paladin deeper into the mattress. Lance wheezes, chest heaving as his lungs try to take in every molecule of oxygen they can after the abundant supply is suddenly cut off. “So slender,” Keith purrs, fucking _purrs._ “I can snap your neck so easily right now. Just apply the _slightest_ pressure.”

And he does apply pressure, cutting Lance’s air off completely. His hands flail at Keith’s wrist, instinctive response the moment his body realizes the danger it’s in. “Keith…” What comes out of his mouth isn’t exactly panic, but sounds downright _erotic_ and the look on his face is euphoric. And then he rolls his hips up, brushing his straining erection against Keith’s inner thigh.

Keith snatches his hand back like he’s been burned, and Lance rolls to his side, coughing and gasping and sucking in as much delicious, delicious air as he can. “I-if you’re tryin’ to… to scare me… to turn me off…” Lance wheezes, “…you’ve got… another thing comin’…”

“Uh… I can see that.”

When Lance is able to breathe normally again, he starts to grind against Keith’s hips, his lips spread in an impish grin. “C’mon, do it again. See how much you can make me feel before I choke out.”

Keith shudders, and the patches of fur on his body seem to poof out and his ears are sticking straight up. “I, um, I don’t really feel comfortable with that,” he admits, ears dropping back. “I thought I was seriously going to hurt you there for a second even though I wasn’t really trying to.”

“’S fine. How ‘bout this instead?”

Lance sits up to press his mouth against Keith’s, tenderly, sweetly. How long has imagined kissing Keith the most? Kissing the smirk right off his stupidly pretty face? Kissing Keith, _mm_ , yes, and those lips are even softer than he’s fantasized about. Lance moans into his mouth, tracing those lips with his tongue, coaxing Keith to open up and let him in. Keith returns his kiss, hesitant, whimpering slightly, and then Lance flicks his tongue against his teeth as if testing their sharpness.

“Wait… I, um, in your mouth…”

“Yeah.” Mmm, yeah he did.

Keith crinkles his nose. “Tastes funny.”

“Eat more pineapples then.”

Lance yanks Keith with him back onto the bed, and their kiss grows rough, hungry, aggressive and sloppy. A gasp tears out of Lance when the other bites into his lip, drawing blood, and the coppery smell only fuels their need. “Lance,” Keith moans in defeat, blood smeared over his mouth and his voice is strained as if he’s holding something back. “My body feels like it’s on fire. It’s everything I can do… to not just… have my fucking way with you.”

Each word is hitting all of Lance’s naughty little kinks, and he’s rubbing his own erection through his pants before he can stop himself. “Would you feel better if you did?” he purrs, and once again doesn’t recognize his own voice. Maybe it’s the sudden aggression or the ears, but Lance really, _really_ wants to be fucked by this dude until he can’t see straight. Straight. Aha.

“Goddamn, Lance, it burns so much, I’ll just hurt you.”

“If this is the only way, I’m fine with it,” Lance says softly. Actually, he’s a little apprehensive about it, not gonna lie, that massive Galra dick in his ass, like, just having it in his _mouth_ hurt a little. And his mouth’s significantly bigger than his asshole. “I’ll be fine.” His voice is not shaking. It’s not. “Here.”

His grin is a little mischievous as he shimmies out of his pants, a skill he has perfected over the years sneaking out with girls and needing to get out and back in his clothes in a hurry when Daddy comes home. He feels his face warm as he watches Keith staring at right at his junk as he rubs his hand along his own dick. This isn’t awkward or anything. Of course not.

“Jesus Christ, Keith, you stare any harder you’re gonna burn a hole right through it.”

Keith flushes and blurts, “I’m just trying to see what I’m looking at.”

“HA!” Lance laughs, and it’s high-pitched and hysterical. “You got jokes, now, I get it. Look you – “

“Dammit, Lance, could you please just fucking hurry already! _I can’t take it!”_

Lance breath is heavy as he pumps himself, Keith watching him making him so, so excited. “So impatient for this piece of Lanass, you horny pervert. And here I thought the idea of fucking me sickened you.”

The responding animalistic growl is both sexy and terrifying, and that’s enough of an incentive. Lance spreads his thighs and his slick hand travels down his cock, past his balls, and into his own ass. He moans, back arching, as he fingers himself open, one then another, trembling at his own touch. God, the hungry look Keith is giving him is almost enough to make him come already, Keith watching him touch himself, watching him play with his own ass. The cum would probably help, actually –

Suddenly, Lance is lying face down on the bed after Keith flips him over like a pancake. He can really feel the claws of Keith’s alien hand now as they dig sharply into his thighs, lifting and raising his ass in the air. “Keith, wait, _wait,_ it’s not ready, you gotta – !”

And then the hot, wet feel of Keith’s tongue dragging slowly over his tight rim. “Fuuuuuuuuuuuck…” Lance moans into the torn sheet beneath him as Keith’s tongue traces over that bundle of nerves around and around in lazy circles. He squeaks most pathetically when that tongue probes into him, exploring, becoming more adventurous with each curious lick.

“You smell so good,” Keith whispers, and his hot breath makes Lance whimper.

“Th-thanks,” Lance replies, and he’s about to add that he showers _thoroughly_ every day like it’s his religion including this morning, but all higher thought processes come to a screeching halt when Keith starts fucking _nibbling_ his pucker almost affectionately, spreading his cheeks to get deeper access, and Lance is rolling his hips hard against the mattress, muttering Keith’s stupid name over and over again like a mantra. But, the mattress he’s grinding into isn’t hard enough to relieve him any, and, holy fuck, Keith is fucking his ass with his wet tongue now, sliding in and out at an agonizing pace. It feels so _good_ , but goddamn, it doesn’t do much more than that and if he doesn’t come soon, he’s going to explode.

“Keith, please,” Lance begs, grinding back against his tongue and digging his fingers into the sheets. He hates that he’s been reduced to this, nothing but a squirming pile of need, but it feels like he’s drowning in bliss. “Please…” How have the tables turned like this? Not ten minutes ago, Keith was the one incoherently whimpering thanks to Lance’s mouth on this very bed.

He gives the most indignant yelp when Keith’s tongue is replaced by the wet head of his cock pressing slowly into him. Just the tip is enough to send Lance’s brain spiraling out of control, and he’s already bucking back to get Keith deeper into him.

Keith slides in bit by bit, stretching Lance out, making him writhe as he's completely filled to the brim. It's not as painful as he's thought it would be, but pressure is _intense,_ and a part of him is a little terrified that he's going to be split open right down the middle. Keith's huge in his mouth, yet feels twice as _massive_ in his ass as if transforming into a half chinchilla-cat boy has made his dick even bigger. Lance buries his face in the mattress, muffling the mewling sound he makes from both from pain and pleasure.

“A-are you alright? Lance?”

“Just stay there a second,” Lance gasps. “Gimme a moment.”

“You’re so warm… so tight. Oh, God, Lance, I don’t know if I can wait – “

“Well, get a goddamn grip and wait a few more seconds for once. I’m… I’m still getting used to it.”

“It hurts?”

 _Of course it does._ It’s not like they’ve used any lube, and Keith’s spit isn’t exactly enough to be as effective, not with that Galra dick. “It’s just uncomfortable, no big deal,” Lance assures him. He raises himself on his arms and shoots Keith a look over his shoulder that he hopes is sexy and inviting, and that the sweat pouring down his forehead just makes it look like that’s how much he actually wants it.

And he does want it. Shit. All pride aside, he really wants Keith to fuck him, he just wishes they’ve been a little better prepared is all. Too late now. Keith’s already buried in him, and the pain has already started to fade into a milky heat. It’ll be fine. He’ll be fine. He’s been through worse.

“Just take it slow at first,” Lance says. Slow is good. He doesn’t need his sister’s slash fanfiction to tell him that much.

Keith still looks hesitant, so Lance gives him a wanton grin, wiggling his backside. “C’mon, baby, I want you. You feel amazing in my ass. Fuck me.”

Did he just call Keith “baby”? Lance isn’t given time to dwell on that little slipup, however, because Keith starts _moving,_ slowly just as he’s told. “Ooooh, yeah, like that,” Lance breathes, and it definitely feels amazing, each gentle thrust chasing away the pain. Unfortunately, it’s difficult to stay relaxed to make things easier on his body. Every nerve is sparking with static. Tension builds at the pit of his stomach, tighter and tighter, seizing him up.

A clawed hand is suddenly on his head, a sharpness digging into his scalp as his face is pushed into the mattress. Lance is very aware of Keith arching over him, and the new angle has the Red Paladin shoving himself very deep inside. Lance is able to turn his face so that he can breathe, but other than that he is completely _pinned._

Any snarky comment Lance has for this new face-down-ass-up development, and he has quite a few of them, are immediately disintegrated into little more than cries of sensation as Keith starts pounding into him. Hard. “K-Keith – !”

The only response he gets is a deep growl. And then Keith shifts his hips and his dick now slams right up against Lance’s prostate, fast and without mercy. Lance bites down on his lip so hard, blood runs down his chin, the wound reopened since Keith bit him the first time. He thrashes beneath the half-Galra, not to escape, but out of sheer pleasure that his body can no longer contain, feet kicking back with curled toes. Otherwise, he can’t move, Keith’s hand on his head, claws twisted in his hair and digging into his scalp, keeping Lance rooted to the spot. He wants to touch his own leaking cock, or beg Keith to touch it, and he can do neither. Tears squeeze out of his eyes as his body is tossed between pleasure and pain, deliriously sweet agony that has him keening obscenely for more.

Lance comes with a scream, dark heat sweeping over him like a tidal wave. He trembles and spasms with ecstasy, cum splashing against his thighs.

And Keith just keeps going.

Lance is a little embarrassed for coming before Keith can finish, but when it starts to become clear that Keith isn’t done with him in the slightest, his heart speeds up all over again. Just as Lance decides that he’s fated to lie there while Keith uses him as a human fleshlight, he starts to climb the precipice all over again. Faster this time, way faster. Lance has never recovered this quickly before, and he doesn’t have high enough brain functions at the moment to ponder why it’s so different this time. Other than, oh yeah, he’s getting pounded in the ass. But he’s sobbing Keith’s name and Keith’s hand keeps rubbing his head around in his own blood and the metallic scent only excites him more. All he can think about anymore is Keith fucking him, Keith making him his complete bitch to with as he pleases, and he _likes it, he likes it so fucking much –_

Keith yanks Lance’s head back by the hair, forcing him to arch up, and then _bites_ down his shoulder. The white-hot pain of Keith sinking his teeth into his skin sends Lance into a pulsating, cumming mess that doesn’t announce his second orgasm with a scream but with incomprehensible babbling between deep gasps as his climax all but blinds him. He barely registers Keith’s sharp snarl and suddenly the Red Paladin stiffens and a hot wetness floods inside him, more and more until Lance’s ass full and overflowing. Keith collapses against him, panting, and slips out his body with cum streaming after him.

For a long moment, they just lay there trying to catch their breath, trying to get back to reality. “Lance,” Keith whispers. “Lance, I’m so, so sorry. I… I completely lost my mind. I think I blacked out, I dunno, all I could do was _feel.”_

Lance smirks at him despite how exhausted he is. “That’s a compliment, y’know. My moves are so hot, you couldn’t even think.”

Keith lifts an eyebrow. It’s just as funny with his golden alien eyes. “What moves? I’m the one who did everything.”

“Oh, and I suppose you gave yourself that amazing blowjob, earlier.”

Keith goes completely silent which Lance considers a victory until the silence grows more concerning. “Hey…?”

“You really should be more scared of me,” Keith mumbles.

“Yeah, well, you know me, I’m just a go-with-the-flow kinda guy.”

“And I’m a _Galra.”_

“But you’re still you, right? And you’d never hurt me… um, well, not deliberately, uh, wait… you did knock me on my ass that one – “

_“You admit it!”_

Lance jumps as Keith stares down at him in shock, those ridiculously adorable ears of his flicking like crazy. “You know I schooled your ass on the training deck, and now after a month, you finally fucking admit it!”

“Okay, okay, let’s not get too carried away with ourselves here, champ, that was _one_ time and I mostly slipped,” Lance retorts rolling his eyes. “Also, before we get too comfortable, we should probably go to my room.”

Keith’s ears flick again, inquisitively. Those ears are going to be Lance’s death. “Why?”

“Because I need a shower and all my bath necessities are in my room. And it’s a straight-up bio hazard in here. And I want cuddles, I _need_ cuddles after all that, but I refuse to cuddle you in this cesspool we’re lying in.”

 

* * *

 

 

Keith sleeps for the next two days. Not straight, he wakes up every now and again for food and he doesn’t eat nearly as much as he has been. A normal portion is enough to satisfy him. Now he just sleeps significantly more than the average person. Lance assures the others that there’s nothing wrong with Keith, he’s simply not feeling well, and, it’s okay, Lance is taking care of everything. After all this time, his team still has little faith in him, and the only person who seems convinced that Lance is capable of such a responsibility is Shiro, and it’s Shiro who convinces the others that Lance knows what he’s doing.

“I remember when Keith started getting these little spells of his, but he’s never told me what they actual were or why he gets them,” Shiro tells Lance in private. “He must have a lot of faith in you to trust you with something so personal. You two are really starting to work well together. I’m proud of you both.”

Lance flushes a bit at the praise from the guy who’s been the very reason Lance specifically went to pilot training. It’s not like that, not really. All of this is only happening because Lance walked in on Keith by accident. And like Keith is going to tell _Shiro_ of all people that he’s half of the very thing that has kept him prisoner in space for over a year.

So it’s not about trust or faith or any of that, and Lance doesn’t fool himself into thinking otherwise. Although, he can’t deny that he and Keith have come a long way. Keith retrieving Lance’s lion from smugglers, working together freeing the Balmera, the incident on the Tathrus moon some few months ago, testing their bond again and again, what little of it that actually is there.

Lance has been caught in a rip current before. He was eleven, and though a decent swimmer by that age, the surprise caused him to panic. It was his sister who saved him and resuscitated him after she saw him go under to almost never be seen again. It’s strange, drowning. Once the panic and fear wash away, once you resign yourself to the fact that you are going to die, it’s a rather peaceful experience. Good or bad, who knows, depends on the person most likely, and for Lance drowning felt peaceful, calm, and almost heavenly. He still takes to the water like a fish as always because even a near death experience can’t override his love of the ocean, but this may explain a few things about his bedroom behavior.

He knows when he’s being pulled under, when he’s gripped by the limbs and dragged deep down into something he has no way of truly understanding. And he knows how easy it is to swim back to the surface if he just stops and uses common sense for a moment. But when Keith flares up in heat again, Lance finds himself drowning in his body heat and soft lips and tantalizing smell.

Perhaps this is why Lance doesn’t care that Keith is half-Galra. He does get off on the strangest things, and being pounded in the ass by Galra dick is apparently one of them. Or perhaps he just knows that being pulled under has nothing to do with malice. Keith will never actually hurt him, never actually betray him. It’s in the hesitation behind his kiss, the reservation of his touch, holding back until Lance gives him the go ahead to do as he pleases. Drowning is a gentle death.

And then, just like eight, nine, possibly ten years ago, who even knows anymore, the current lets him go. Lance doesn’t belong down here in the watery dark. A week or so of this, and Keith is back to normal, even looks human again. That night, Lance lays there with the smaller pilot curled in his arms, listening to his breathing that’s finally calm and steady. It’s over. Lance isn’t needed anymore.

Just as he drifts off to sleep for the last night he will ever spend with Keith, he feels the other shift and then a soft purring in his ear:

“Thank you.”

Lance shrugs although Keith probably doesn’t notice because his deep breathing sounds like he’s fallen back asleep.

“S’nothin’.”

Lance is just that kind of guy.

**Author's Note:**

> There is a SFW sequel. :D [Proper Care and Feeding of Your Galra Companion for Dummies](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7477107/chapters/16992645)


End file.
